


The In-Between

by wildeisms



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Coming Out, Drug Use, Gen, Gender Identity Exploration, Genderqueer Klaus Hargreeves, Homophobia, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Klaus Mostly Uses He/Him (But Occasionally They/Them), Multi, No Incest, Non-Binary Klaus Hargreeves, Pansexual Klaus Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Supportive Hargreeves Siblings, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26317126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildeisms/pseuds/wildeisms
Summary: Sibling communication has never been the Hargreeves' forte, but somehow, Klaus still manages to come out to all of his siblings in some way or another.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 29
Kudos: 207





	1. Ben

**Author's Note:**

> Is this just incredibly self-indulgent queer Klaus content? Perhaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in the summer of 2003, when the Hargreeves siblings are 13.

Klaus had never been much of a reader. It wasn’t that he disliked books - although some of what he and his siblings were forced to read was just so  _ boring _ , he definitely disliked those ones - it was simply more trouble than it was worth to force himself to sit still, focus, and follow each line without getting lost or distracted. He found it challenging enough already, and if any dearly departed decided to show up during the whole endeavour, that just made it worse.

But tonight was different. Tonight, Klaus was poring over an old, heavy book, willing himself to stay focused, his eyes straining in the torchlight. He had pilfered the book from his father’s extensive library that morning and could only hope he’d find his answers and be able to return it before anyone noticed its absence. As much as his father should theoretically approve of him reading, Klaus was certain that this was not something he needed to know about.

Reginald Hargreeves owned this book because it was a first edition, not because he approved of the information contained within it. Of that much, Klaus was certain. Any request to access it would have definitely been met with rage - or even disgust. 

It should have filled Klaus with disgust too. And it did, in some way. But it wasn’t just disgust he felt. It was fascinating, entrancing, exciting, even if the heavy prose made him stumble and falter as he read, even if a good deal of it remained confusing and incomprehensible to his young mind. 

“What are you doing?”

At the sound of his brother’s voice, he slammed the heavy book shut and averted his eyes from it as if he had been caught doing something scandalous. 

“Nothing! Just… reading.”

“At 3AM?”

“Yeah, well what are  _ you  _ doing? This is  _ my  _ room,” Klaus said, and Ben had the sense to look slightly abashed.

“I couldn’t sleep, and I saw the light from your torch.” Before Klaus could come up with a plan that wasn’t ‘throw the book out the window’, Ben was approaching his bed and sitting down beside him. “Sexual Behavior in the Human Male,” he read, and Klaus felt his cheeks flushing. It was too late now, and the noise would have woken people up regardless, but the urge to throw the book away as if it was something filthy was still there. 

“It’s not- There aren’t any good pictures, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Klaus said, hoping the joking tone and the dim light would hide his humiliation, or throw Ben off the scent. It was a lie, though. There was one excellent picture which Klaus had spent at least five full minutes staring at, a graph which had simultaneously made his heart nearly burst out of his chest and comforted him a thousand times more than his father ever had.  _ Other people have felt just like you do _ , it had said.  _ You’re not the only one who falls somewhere in the middle. _

“You’re still reading it, though?” 

Klaus swallowed. If it had been his father, or even some of his other siblings, he would have done anything to get out of this situation, told any lie. But it was Ben, who wouldn’t tell unless Klaus really upset him. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked in a low whisper. 

Ben nodded solemnly. “Of course.”

Klaus closed his eyes for a moment, conjuring up all his bravery, then flipped back to the page he needed. “I’m number four.”

“I know you’re Number Four, what are you-?” Ben began, a frown of confusion pulling his eyebrows down before Klaus cut him off. 

“No,  _ look _ . I’m number four here.” He tapped the page, but couldn’t bring himself to look at it or at Ben while his brother read.

“Four: predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual,” Ben read, then looked up at Klaus. “So you… you like guys? But you also kind of like girls too?”

Klaus nodded, fidgeting with his bed covers so he didn’t have to make eye contact. “Yeah. Don’t tell anyone else, though.”

They may have been sheltered, destined to grow up unlike other kids, but by the age of fourteen, they both knew enough about the world to be sure that it was shameful and embarrassing to be a man who liked other men, and to be fairly certain that liking women as well didn’t make that shamefulness or embarrassment go away. He’d be a disgrace to the Academy if anyone else found out. 

“I won’t. I promise,” Ben said, and Klaus managed a smile. He went to pull Ben in for a hug, but at the last moment, he hesitated. Was he still allowed to hug his brother now?

“Don’t be stupid.” As if reading his mind, Ben reached out and hugged him tightly. “You don’t have to get all weird just because I know you’re… you know, number four.”

Klaus giggled, a nervous reflex rather than truly finding the joke funny, but Ben laughed too and Klaus's shoulders dropped just a little bit.


	2. Diego

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also takes place in 2003, with reference to events from 2001.

When Klaus was twelve years old, he fell down the stairs. All of his siblings knew that - how could they not, when he’d been stuck with his jaw wired shut and his leg in a cast for just over two months?

It had been his own fault, really. His mom’s shoes had been too big, too high for him, but they were too nice to resist. He’d wanted to wear them, to try and walk in them with the same elegance and style as all the women he’d seen in pretty shoes. And he would have been fine, even if he had only been able to take tiny, wobbling steps, even if it had taken him three times as long to walk up and down the hallway as it normally would. He would have been fine if Diego hadn’t caught him, and if his first instinct hadn’t been to try and run away. But he wasn’t so lucky, and had ended up falling face-first down a flight of stairs.

He had sobbed, wailing louder than he ever had before in his memory, when he hit the ground. The pain was bad enough, but the sheer terror that his parents and his siblings would all know what he had been doing made it all even worse.

No one had ever mentioned it to him, though. Perhaps they’d forgotten by the time his jaw healed enough for him to speak again, or perhaps the fact he had liked his painkillers a little too much was somehow more interesting or more taboo. He didn’t know. But not knowing had to be better than teasing or punishment, even if he’d felt like more of an outsider within his family ever since.

No one had ever mentioned it to him until just over two years later. 

He was sitting alone in his bedroom, his eyes closed, when he heard the door open. It was still a strange novelty, the way the pills muffled the ghosts. His mom didn’t even notice when painkillers went missing from her first aid kits - she just kept them restocked whenever she saw they were running low. And even if she did notice, if things got really bad, he could always steal Vanya’s medication. She was so quiet, maybe they’d make the world quiet too. He might have to try it even if he still had access to his painkillers.

When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Diego hovering in his doorway. The two of them exchanged a look, and Diego crept in, closing the door behind him. This had to be serious, then.

“Whe-when you w-w-wore M-m-m-mom’s h-h-heels…” Diego began hesitantly, and Klaus’s blood ran cold. He must be nervous, Klaus thought. His brother’s stammer always got worse when he was nervous. But what did  _ he  _ have to be afraid of? Klaus came out of the whole thing so much worse, had so much more to lose. He felt like he was about to throw up. “Why’d y-you d-d-do tha-that?”

He didn’t have a good answer to that. ‘Because I wanted to’ wasn’t a good enough answer, and neither was ‘because they look pretty’. “I don’t know,” he said instead, and it was Diego’s turn to be lost for words. But what else could he have said?

“I did-did-didn’t t-tell an-ny-nyone,” Diego said eventually. And that, Klaus supposed, explained the complete lack of teasing or confrontation from any of his siblings. But what didn’t make sense was why Diego would have kept that information to himself. If it had been Ben, or perhaps Vanya, he would have understood, but  _ Diego _ ?

Klaus wanted to ask why not, but he didn’t. Not when that could make him reconsider, could convince him that it was a good idea to tell his siblings - or even his father. “Thanks,” he said instead, his voice barely a whisper.

Diego nodded once. “Can I a-a-ask you a que-que-question?”

“I guess.”

“Do-do-do you w-wanna b-be a g-girl? Or are you j-just g-gay?”

“I’m not a girl,” he said, perhaps a little too quickly. But did he  _ want  _ to be a girl? Sure, sometimes he wanted to dress up, and liking guys would be a bit more normal if he was a girl, but did that mean he wanted to be a girl? Or was he just a weird boy, not like any of his siblings (or anyone else). Or was this what it was like for everyone who liked both men and women, who fell somewhere in between and couldn’t quite manage to be one thing or another.

Diego’s eyebrows raised, but he didn’t press it. Yet somehow, Klaus wished he would. He wished his brother would want to know, would be interested in who and what Klaus really was. “I might be a little bit gay, but I still do like girls too,” he said quietly.

“D-does Dad kn-know?”

Klaus laughed humorlessly. Would Klaus even still be allowed to stay at the Academy if he knew? “Not unless Mom told him about the shoes. Ben knows, but he won’t have said anything.”

“I’ll k-keep it s-s-s-secret,” Diego confirmed with a firm, determined nod, and Klaus nodded back. While they might not get each other completely, they at least had a kind of understanding between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diego's stammer is soft and good, and he just wants to be a good brother. I feel like the moment he learned about any kind of queer people existing, he got a 'WAIT A SECOND' moment and this is the result of that: an awkward, emotionally repressed teenage boy attempt at the 'hey bro if you're gay or trans you can tell me' conversation.


	3. Allison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set in the summer of 2004, when the siblings are 14. 
> 
> It also REALLY didn't want to be written for some reason. I love Klaus and Allison's sibling relationship (especially in s2) and I'm not sure I did it justice, but I hope you like this chapter anyway.

Allison had started collecting magazines when she was in them. That had been allowed, and once she had started, their father seemed to have decided it was not worth checking whether each magazine actually featured the Academy. Once the dam had been broken, Allison’s full-blown fascination with every teen magazine she could get her hands on seemed to be there to stay. 

Klaus knew better than to display any overt interest in them around his father or his brothers. Even Ben would have teased him for wanting to read something so supposedly stupid and vapid, so blatantly for girls. They teased Allison enough for them and she  _ was _ a girl. 

But if he happened to end up picking them up while hanging out in Allison’s room, well, that had to be okay, right? And she didn’t seem to mind having someone to read them with. She actually seemed to quite like it, especially if he’d had a drink or two from their father’s bar first. He was funnier, happier, and less distracted when he was tipsy. He was a better person to be around. 

Allison sat cross-legged on her bed, her copy of Seventeen in her lap. Next to her, Klaus laid on his stomach, having picked up a copy of Teen People, based primarily on the picture of Orlando Bloom on the cover and the promise of showing him the ‘50 sexiest guys ever’. It still felt a little odd to accept, even in his own mind, that this was what he wanted to look at, but if he hadn’t given in there, he would only have felt compelled to steal the magazine for later. The curiosity was impossible to resist.

“What do you think of this skirt?” Allison asked, tilting her magazine to show him a black and white skirt that might have started its life as a knee-length skirt, but which had seemingly been ripped or cut up to make it asymmetrical and much shorter.

“Why? Thinking of doing that to one of your Academy skirts?” he asked, and Allison laughed.

“Yeah, right. Dad would kill me,” she said as she turned the page. He’d be angry, but nowhere near as angry as he had been when a six year old Klaus had asked him why Three and Seven always wore skirts but he didn’t have any. That particular ‘silly dress up’ was so much worse than an artfully ripped skirt.

“Maybe I could wear one too, then he’d be so mad at me he’d forget to be mad at you,” Klaus said, his tone light with a hint of sarcasm. If she found the idea too strange, he could claim he had been completely joking, obviously he wouldn’t actually want to wear a skirt. 

Allison laughed. “You, in a skirt?” Of course she found it ridiculous. It  _ was  _ ridiculous. He laughed too, even though he didn’t feel much like laughing. But what  _ was  _ he feeling? Self-conscious? Embarrassed? Guilty? He wasn’t sure. But he laughed along with her anyway. It was easier to laugh at anything uncomfortable or strange, even if that particular thing was himself.

“It would work!” he insisted, forcing himself to smile. But perhaps that was too much, too eager. “I’m not gonna do it, though. That would be, you know, super weird,” he added, just in case. 

“ _ You’re _ super weird,” Allison said with a teasing grin. 

“Shut up. You’re weird. You think Justin Timberlake is hot, that’s super weird!” 

“It is not!” she laughed, shoving him playfully.

“Is too!”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I heard a rumour you told me who your celebrity crush is!” she said, and he felt the too-familiar tendrils of her power twist around his brain, controlling him like a marionette. It was as if he was limp, a manipulated doll in her hands. 

“Orlando Bloom,” he said, his voice unnervingly flat, even to his own ears. As her grip on him faded, he felt a mix of embarrassment, nerves, and nonsensical relief rise out of the numbness. “Which wouldn’t be that weird if I was a girl, but I guess I’m weird too,” he said, not quite managing the breezy tone he wanted. Allison was silent, and that wasn’t helping. 

“He is pretty cute,” she said eventually, and Klaus laughed, more from a mixture of nerves and relief than her having said anything remotely funny. She giggled too, and they soon descended into laughter together. 

“Does this mean when we get guy fans, we’re going to have to fight over them?” she asked, grinning at him.

“I’m pretty sure most of them wouldn’t be into guys anyway.” And if they were, iit would probably be Luther they liked, or maybe Diego, or Ben if they had a thing for sweet, nerdy guys. It wouldn’t be him. Even if they somehow knew he’d be interested, the chance of him getting chosen was ridiculously low. He didn’t even have the first idea how to be appealing, even if he desperately wanted to be.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” she agreed, then went back to her magazine.

“You know I’d probably have told you that I like guys as well as girls if you’d asked, right? You didn’t need to rumour me,” he said after a few moments of silence. 

She didn’t seem to know what to say to that. “You could’ve lied,” she said eventually.

He could have, and often did. Lying was a necessity, a habit, a compulsion. It was easier than it should have been, and the older he got, the more he found himself doing it. 

“Miss Allison, Master Klaus.” A voice from the doorway made them both turn around. Instinctively, Klaus pushed the magazine in front of him away, as if even being near to it would somehow incriminate him. Pogo stood in the hallway just outside the room, looking at the pair of them with stern eyes. “I believe it is past your bedtime.”

“Can’t we have ten more minutes?” Allison asked, giving Pogo her best pleading eyes.

“It’s alright. I’m tired anyway,” Klaus said, swinging his legs off her bed and dragging himself to his feet. He wasn’t, but he really wanted another drink, and he had to at least maintain the illusion that any sneaking or borrowing was just for fun. That fun was ruined if he made it sad, if he admitted how much harder it was to exist without it now he knew what freedom felt like. He was a liar, but it was better that way. “Night, Allie. Night, Pogo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a surprising amount of research into 2004 teen magazines for this chapter, especially given how little I ended up referencing the actual content. But if you want to dive down into the early 2000s, this instagram has a lot of content: https://www.instagram.com/thankyouatoosa/


	4. Vanya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also takes place in 2004, when the Hargreeves siblings are 15.

There was only so much alcohol in the house, and Reginald Hargreeves didn’t seem particularly inclined to buy any more than he usually would. He must have known that Klaus was taking it, but as long as it didn’t affect the team and it kept him from causing problems, he didn’t seem to care. If anything, the fact he still kept every bottle easily accessible was as good as encouragement. 

But it wasn’t enough. Klaus didn’t want to be sober anymore. He didn’t want to hear anything or see anything that no one else could hear or see. He didn’t want to have nightmares every time he went to sleep. He didn’t want to be back in the mausoleum, not literally or psychologically. He wanted to spend every second drunk or high out of his mind, and alcohol was the easiest to get hold of. 

So when his siblings were all asleep, he went out. The fire escape out of Five's window was just as unguarded as it had been when they were kids, the empty room ignored by everyone. It was too easy. It was as good as encouragement. 

He had discovered recently that there was a store a couple of blocks away where the cashiers never carded anyone. Klaus may have looked every one of his fifteen years and not a day over, but the guy who ran the register didn’t get paid enough to give a shit. He paid - or rather his father did - and that was good enough. And it wasn’t like anyone checked his room. His mother cleaned it, but she never took anything but his laundry. All he had to do was make it back up the fire escape without dropping his bottles, and through from Five’s room to his own without waking anyone up.

It shouldn’t have been hard. But when he climbed back through the window and saw Vanya, standing in the doorway and looking into the room, glassy eyed, he nearly dropped the plastic bag holding his vodka.

“Jesus, Vanny! What the hell are you doing?”

“I-” Vanya began, looking down at the floor instead of at her brother, as if he’d walked in on her doing something wrong instead of the opposite.

“I’m not-” she began. “I didn’t know you’d… I keep thinking, what if Five comes back?” Her voice was small and soft and so incredibly sad, and Klaus felt his defensiveness melt. He sat down on the still-made bed and patted the comforter next to him, inviting Vanya to sit. She took the space next to him, but still maintained her distance. She was always distant. He pulled one of his bottles out of the bag and took a long drink.

“Just me, I’m afraid,” he said with a small smile, and the very corners of her lips twitched. That was the best he could hope for from her - she was always so muted. Honestly, she was kind of boring. But she seemed so sad, and Klaus didn’t want his sister to be any more miserable than she usually was. “He’s not dead, Vanny. I’d know if he was.” Or at least he would have known, had he not started muffling the ghosts more and more. These days, he almost never saw them. But Five had always been a stubborn bastard, and he would have found a way to get through to him if he was dead.

“Then why hasn’t he come back yet?” she asked pitifully.

“Maybe he’s found something better? That can’t have been that hard,” he joked, hoping she’d laugh. She didn’t. “He could have fallen in love. Met some guy or girl and now he can’t bring himself to leave them behind.” Or maybe he was stuck in some other time, or he was dead in the future but Klaus couldn’t tell since he hadn’t technically died yet. But neither of those things would comfort Vanya, so he kept those thoughts to himself. 

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. Klaus didn’t mind the sound of his own voice, but talking to her could be so frustrating sometimes. He forced himself to stop, giving her a chance to speak. His resolve only lasted a few seconds, and about half of those were filled by him taking another drink. She looked at him, but didn’t dare criticise him for it. He knew she wouldn’t talk about it, wouldn’t stand up to him. She’d always hated conflict. “Come on. Whatever you want to say, I promise I’ve said worse.”

“I… It’s not…” She sighed, fidgeting with her fingernails. “You said ‘guy or girl’.”

“Sure did. I don’t know which way he goes.” Probably only towards girls, but it was nice to think he might not have been the only one in this household whose sexuality would be a disappointment to their father. 

Vanya made a non-committal noise and kept tearing at her nails. She still didn’t seem satisfied, though, and Klaus had to fight the urge to roll his eyes in frustration.

“I’d fuck a girl or a guy,” he said bluntly. She almost certainly wanted to know, but he didn’t think she’d ever get the balls to ask.

“Oh. Have you…?” she began, then trailed off.

“Vanya!” he gasped, faux scandalised, clutching his vodka to his chest in his overacted shock. But he couldn’t stop the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He hadn’t expected that from her, but he didn’t mind it.

“I didn’t mean like that!” she said, her eyes wide in panic. “I don’t- I don’t even want to know if you’ve, you know,  _ with  _ someone. I was gonna ask if you’ve told the others!”

Klaus just laughed. He didn’t mean it cruelly, but she still looked like a kicked puppy. He couldn’t feel too guilty, though. It  _ was  _ funny. “Ben, Allison and Diego know,” he said eventually. “But Luther would just tell Dad.”

“I won’t tell them,” she promised. Klaus didn’t doubt that. She barely spoke to anyone anymore. And honestly, he didn’t blame her. They both had their own ways of escaping, and turning in on herself was Vanya’s. That, and her meds. They had that in common, at least - although Klaus’s methods of acquiring them were far less sanctioned. It wasn’t like she’d ever confront him about stealing from her, though. She might not have even noticed a bottle going missing here and there, or them running out far quicker than they should have been. She definitely wouldn’t have noticed that Klaus had been more well-rested, more relaxed, ever since her meds had started vanishing. No one really noticed much about him anymore. 

Maybe he should try mixing her meds with his vodka… 


	5. Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in 2008, when the siblings are 18.

There was something oddly liberating about a plateaued high, when he should have been exhausted but there was enough of something good running through his body that it kept him going. Klaus had even managed to get his hands on some gorgeous boots, black and silver glitter with a chunky heel that made him even taller, and though he had sweat off most of his makeup, a smudged ring around his eyes still remained. He looked fabulously queer. So he’d gone out, danced until he was breathless, flirted and kissed his way through half the club, and traded an almost pitifully quick blowjob for a baggie of pills. He’d even managed to run into - well, not friends exactly, but some people he knew on his way out, when he’d decided he was bored of dancing. If he played his cards right, he could end up in a bed with one or two of them, and maybe even get a free breakfast out of it too. It was a good day. 

“Hey!”

It wouldn’t be the first time someone had shouted at him in the street when he dared to walk at night. Usually it was when he was alone, but he supposed the night made the bigots feel even braver. 

“Number Four? Four!” 

Klaus faltered. The shouting was one thing, but his number? His brain was too fried to recognise the voice immediately, but it was too familiar for him to completely ignore. He closed his eyes for a second, steadying himself. “I’ll catch up, okay?” he said to his sort-of friends, just as the voice called his number again.

With a frustrated groan, Klaus spun around unsteadily. He should have worn flats, but it was too late for that now. Besides, his boots were cute and even wasted, he could still just about walk in them. 

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t Luther. 

“My name is  _ Klaus _ ,” he said firmly, flicking his wrist emphatically. “Not Number Four, not The Seance, not any other Umbrella shit. Just Klaus.”

“Klaus,” Luther repeated, his eyes travelling over Klaus’s body. The tattoos, the makeup, the shoes, the women’s shirt, and of course the blown out pupils… Of course he’d hate the look, because their father would have hated it, and Luther had never had an original thought in his life. “What… Is this really what’s so much better than the Academy?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” he said emphatically. “Shitting myself to death in an alleyway while a raccoon bites my balls would be better than the goddamn Academy.”

As if Luther’s disapproval couldn’t have been stronger. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m a lot of things,” he said with a wicked grin. 

“You’re-” Luther pinched the bridge of his own nose, seemingly needing to compose himself. Composure was so overrated. “You’re high, aren’t you?”

Klaus exhaled slowly. “Well… I mean I’d say I’m- technically I’m  _ pan _ sexual, but bi works- Wait… did you say high or bi? Because I’m  _ definitely  _ high.” 

“Jesus, Klaus… You’re coming home, right now.”

“Mm, let me think about that one…” Klaus pantomimed deep contemplation before shaking his head. “Nah, you know I don’t think I am. I think I don’t have to do  _ shit  _ that you say anymore.”

“I’ll call the cops. You can’t even drink, you’re still underage.”

“Actually, my ID says I’m twenty two, meaning if I want to go get trashed, I can.”

“And the drugs?”

“Took them all, and if I don’t have any on me, they can’t do shit.” Not completely true, but Luther didn’t need to know that.

“I’m not dealing with this.” Before Klaus could do anything but squeak in surprise, Luther had lifted him up over his shoulder. Goddamn super strength. Not that Klaus weighed that much anyway, he had always been on the skinny side and his current diet of one meal a day wasn’t helping. 

“Let go of me!” he shrieked. He couldn’t fight Luther, not even fully sober, but he could draw enough of a crowd that the whole situation would get ugly. 

“Shut up,” Luther said, but Klaus just carried on screaming, wriggling in his brother’s grip.

“Let me go, I don’t wanna go with you! Stop it!”

It was working. People were keeping their distance still, but they were starting to notice. “You’re being ridiculous,” Luther growled, his frustration evidently growing. “You’re acting like a child.”

“Help! Someone help me!” he shouted, filling his voice with as much desperate fear as he could. Really, he should have been the actor, not Allison. 

As Klaus twisted and turned in Luther’s arms, he saw a muscular man, almost as large as Luther, moving towards them. “Is there a problem?” he asked, his voice gruff. 

“My brother, he’s just drunk-”

“I’m not his brother!” It was a low blow, but Klaus didn’t care. If sounding near-hysterical and lying through his teeth was what it took to get himself out of this, he’d do it. “He kept hitting on me and I said no, but-”

“Klaus,” Luther hissed. “Will you  _ stop  _ it?”

“Uh-huh. I think you should let him go, buddy,” the stranger said in a voice that brokered no arguments. “Before things get real ugly here.”

Humiliated, Luther dropped Klaus onto the sidewalk. It probably would have hurt if he hadn’t been both drunk and high, but as it was, Klaus barely felt it. “You are  _ impossible _ ,” he growled down at Klaus. For a moment, Klaus thought he might be about to kick him. But instead he just straightened up and walked away, his fists clenched at his sides.

Klaus just closed his eyes and laughed, his head thrown back against the concrete. If Reggie hadn’t worked it out by now, Luther would definitely be telling him everything. Not that it would matter much anymore. He hadn’t been living at home for almost a year now, and he had no intention of going back. No doubt Ben would complain if he found out how Klaus had acted, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You okay?” the man asked, his voice a little softer now.

Klaus kept laughing. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m good.”


	6. Ben (again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in 2014, when the Hargreeves siblings are 24.
> 
> This chapter also contains homophobic and transphobic violence and slurs.

The music blasting through his second-hand headphones wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out his thoughts, but it was close. 

“You’ve got your mother in a whirl, she’s not sure if you’re a boy or a girl!” Klaus sang as he danced. “Hey babe, your hair’s alright! Hey babe, let’s go out tonight!”

He closed his eyes and let the music take him, let his body move however felt right. Feeling right was still new to him, and while he hadn’t ever managed to feel right while sober, it was still a good feeling. Freedom was a wonderful thing. He didn’t have to be Number Four, he didn’t have to be proper, didn’t have to be a good son… He didn’t have to be anything. If he wanted to get dressed up and dance, just for himself, he could. Even if dressing up meant wearing a mesh shirt a knee-length skirt that spun around him when he twirled. 

The moment he opened his eyes, Ben was inches from his face. Startled, Klaus staggered back. “Jesus fuck, Benny!” he whined, pulling his headphones off. David Bowie was still audible, even with them cast onto the dirty mattress on his floor. 

“Answer your goddamn door.”

Without the near-deafening music, Klaus could make out the banging on his door. Shit. He considered ignoring it, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t in. So he pulled the door open and faced the furious man in front of him. As soon as he saw Klaus, his expression grew even darker. He wasn’t unattractive, at least.

“ _ You’re _ Klaus?” he asked.

“The one and only,” Klaus said with a saucy grin. “I’d ask who you are, but… You know, I don’t really care.”

He didn’t even need to turn around to know Ben had his head in his hands. Served him right for making him answer the door. But the confidence fell off Klaus’s face when the man grabbed him by the shirt, ripping the material, and shoved him up against the door. He corrected himself immediately, forcing himself to smile again. “Usually, I’d say buy me a drink first.”

“Give me back my money,” he growled.

“What did you  _ do _ ?” Ben asked in alarm. 

“You’ve gotta be more specif-ugh!” Klaus choked on the final word as the man’s hand wrapped around his throat. 

“If you think I’m gonna let some tranny faggot  _ thief  _ take my shit-”

“Oh, keep talking dirty,” Klaus rasped, his heart pounding in a mixture of fear and arousal. The fact the arousal was there at all was a testament to precisely how fucked up he was, getting turned on by this. But he could use it. If he could convince this man he wasn’t afraid, that the violence wouldn’t intimidate him, he could get out of this victorious. 

But all he managed to do was make him angrier. A right hook to his face had the back of his head smashing into the wall, and he couldn’t hold back the groan of pain. 

“Klaus!” Ben was hovering beside him, a frustrated powerlessness marring his face.

“‘M fine,” he gasped, though his vision had gone slightly blurry, and the hand around his throat tightened. As much as it hurt, as much as he shouldn’t like this, he had a semi. 

That, apparently, was the limit. The man dropped him as though he was some kind of filth, his face contorted in disgust. “You’ve got two days to get me what you owe me. A hundred and fifty dollars by Friday, or you’ll be just another dead tranny bitch.”

“Eat my ass,” Klaus croaked as he got to his feet and staggered back into his apartment, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

As soon as he was inside, he leant back against the door and ran his hands through his hair, his eyes closed. As the footsteps moved away, Klaus could still hear David Bowie’s voice coming through the headphones on his bed. He wanted to cry, but instead, he just laughed.

“Are you- Klaus, are you okay?” Ben asked. Klaus just kept laughing, nearing hysterics. “Klaus!”

“Where’s my bong?” he asked eventually, and Ben just shook his head.

By the time Klaus was nicely buzzed, Ben had calmed down enough to stop being boring, and the pain had faded away to a dull ache. 

“Am I a tranny?” Klaus asked, partly to himself.

“No!” Ben insisted.

“Maybe? I mean, I don’t know…” He sighed. He liked the skirt. He knew he did, but that didn’t make him a woman. Did it? But then what made him a man? The dick? Not necessarily. The fact being referred to as ‘him’ or ‘Klaus’ didn’t make him miserable? Maybe. But then again, it wasn’t like he never had been one of the boys. There was Luther, Diego and Ben, then there was Allison and Vanya… And then Klaus. Where did he fit? Even before their family had broken down beyond repair, he’d been too much a girl for the boys and too much a boy for the girls. Was that just his queerness, or was there something more to it?

“You got your mother in a whirl, she’s not sure if you’re a boy or a girl,” he sang, then chuckled and shook his head. “And she’s not the only one.” He took another hit and closed his eyes.

“Do you want to be a girl?” Ben asked uncertainly. Bless him. He was too sweet for this shit. If he’d still been alive, he’d have fucked off long before this. Klaus was just his best option, his  _ only  _ option.

He exhaled a cloud, wishing he could expel his feelings so easily. “No? I mean, kinda? But still no? But it’s not like I definitely  _ want  _ to be a guy either? I don’t know, Benny… Right now I just want to be really fucking high.” 


	7. The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if Vanya's book has a canon publication date, but my estimate is 2016, when the Hargreeves siblings are 26. If that's wrong, please pretend I got it right and adjust your perceptions accordingly.

When Klaus first heard that Vanya had written a book, he thought it might have been vaguely entertaining. Especially if it showed exactly how much of an asshole their father had been. That, he thought, could have even been a treat. So despite the fact he hadn’t voluntarily picked up a book in years, he found himself reading again. Not that he’d had a choice - Ben had never owned the book, so he wouldn’t have been able to read it without Klaus holding it for him, and he would have insisted on that. But in this case, Klaus did actually want to read it. And at least it gave him something to do, and the library couldn’t throw him out unless he pissed off too many other people.

But the more he read, the sicker he felt. It was the worst kind of addiction, no pleasure or freedom coming from it, only the compulsion to keep going and Ben gasping in his ear. She hated their father, and he couldn’t blame her for that, but she hated all of them too. She hated  _ him _ .

He wouldn’t have blamed her for that if she’d known him better. There was plenty to hate, plenty of things that he wasn’t proud of, but she didn’t even know about most of that. Her conclusion might have been sound, but her reasoning was simple cruelty. To act as if he had been treated better than her? As if he was somehow blessed to be tormented by ghosts unless he drugged himself? She’d never been locked in a mausoleum to be tortured by the dead. She’d never been forced to endure those horrifying and gory apparitions that no one else could see. She’d never been forced to risk her life for their father’s bullshit experiment. Reginald Hargreeves hated and dismissed all of them, not just her. And he would have traded places with her in a heartbeat.

“Holy shit- She wrote that?” Ben said, his scandalised disbelief evident in every syllable.

Klaus shushed him, waving a hand dismissively in Ben’s direction. “Whatever you just read, you know I’m not at that bit yet!” he hissed. Even when he was alive, Ben should have learned that Klaus read slower than him. Add in half a bottle of tequila with a few extras mixed in, and the fact that Klaus could read at all was an accomplishment. 

It took about a minute for Klaus to get to the passage Ben had responded to. He knew he’d found the right one immediately.

_ He came home drunk one night when we were fifteen, still clutching a bottle of vodka. That in itself wasn’t all that unusual, but that was the night I happened to catch him sneaking back in through the window of Five’s bedroom, and that was the night he told me he was bisexual, although he didn’t use the word. I don’t think I would have known what it meant if he had. Teaching us about sexuality was never a priority for our father. Beyond what we could pick up from the limited media we were allowed to consume, the world of sex and relationships was completely alien. We were never seen as full people who could develop any sexual or romantic desires. _

_ I can’t be sure how Klaus figured it out, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he had already started having sex with men in exchange for drink and drug money, even at fifteen. None of us had a template for normal, healthy relationships. _

Klaus couldn’t bring himself to read anymore. He dropped the book and it fell to the ground with a satisfying thump that did nothing to ease how he felt. He wanted to cry in frustration. He wanted to get so high he couldn’t remember anything anymore. She really did hate him. It didn’t matter that he’d tried to comfort her, that he wanted to be good to her. All she found to be worth mentioning was his sexuality and her suspicions that he had been an underage hooker. Was that all she saw him as?

He laughed. He could hear it as if it came from someone else, an unhinged, near hysterical laugh.

“Klaus-” Ben began, but Klaus spoke over him. 

“Does she not remember what I looked like at fifteen? I wasn’t hot enough to be paid jailbait.”

“ _ That’s _ your take-away from this?” Ben asked, his voice full of disbelief. 

“You’re right. She should have just cut the word count and called me an attention-seeking queer drug addict and child prostitute. Which I wasn’t, by the way. All the underage sex I had was pro bono.”

Ben closed his eyes and tilted his head up towards the ceiling. “First of all, I don’t think you know what pro bono means. Second of all, I wish I knew way less about you.”

Klaus laughed again. “What, would you rather I let you believe Vanya?” Everyone would believe Vanya. She was normal. She didn’t take anything more than her meds. She didn’t lie and cheat and steal. And he was willing to bet she had never been paid for sex. “She’s just jealous she’s not good enough at sucking cock to get paid for it.”

“Gross.”

“Homophobe.”

“Sir?” An older woman in a floral dress and a lanyard was hovering a few feet away from him, as if he was dangerous or contagious. It was almost insulting how often people acted like that. Even if they thought he was just some hallucinating junkie, it wasn’t like he was hurting anyone. “For the sake of other patrons, I’m going to have to ask you to be mindful of your volume and your language, please. I really don’t want to have to ask you to leave.”

“Yeah. Yeah, my bad,” he agreed. He bent down and picked up his bag, then got to his feet. The room swayed around him. “I was actually just leaving.”

“Klaus, come on-” Ben whined, but Klaus shot him a look. He didn’t want to deal with his thoughts anymore. He didn’t care if Ben wanted to read more. He’d done what his brother had asked of him.

The librarian had started speaking again, but Klaus wasn’t listening. It was just some flustered ass-covering about how he didn’t have to go, as if she could have forced him. 

“I’m leaving,” he repeated, cutting her off. “But can I take this book out?” He didn’t especially want to read it anymore, but he could turn the pages for Ben if it meant his brother would stop whining at him, if it would give him some leverage. 

Perhaps it was time to be exactly as depraved as the world thought he was. Twenty dollars and a decent blowjob could get him enough heroin to stop caring that his sister despised him. 


	8. Diego (again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set in the winter of 2017, when the Hargreeves siblings are 28.

Klaus had stopped speaking to Luther first. He’d just try and bring him back to the Academy every time, as if he’d ever been much good as a superhero anyway. He’d just tell their father every detail about how much of a disappointment Klaus was. But no matter how shitty his life got, being Klaus, the homeless addict, was so much better than being Number Four. 

Then Allison had stopped speaking to him, too ashamed of her ridiculous, junkie brother and too sick of lending him money only to have him spend it getting high. He understood that, to some extent. She was famous now, and that meant amputating and hiding the ugly parts of her life. It hurt, of course it did, but he’d read enough of her celebrity gossip magazines when they were young to know what could happen to her career if anyone knew too much about him.

Vanya’s disappearance from his life was much more complicated. She’d never been overly close to any of them, but she’d pulled even further away after Ben had died. She seemed convinced he was lying about Ben’s presence as a ghost, seemed afraid of him, seemed to think he was just too much. So he’d stepped back too, letting his baby sister (they were the same age, but she had always just seemed small) have her own life at a distance. Then her book came out, and he knew without a doubt that she wasn’t just scared or overwhelmed by him, she hated him. But he knew her well enough that he knew she would never have the guts to tell him to get lost herself. So he did it for her, and let her have her own life without him.

Ben stuck around, but he didn’t have much of a choice. There was no one else he could speak to, no one else who could even see him. But after everything he’d seen, after all of the rock bottoms he’d watched Klaus hit, the only thing keeping him around was the fact that Klaus was his only option. 

But Diego… It was probably his hero complex that kept him around, thinking he could somehow save Klaus from his own choices. Or maybe it was the fact that Diego’s near obsessive listening to the police radio let him know almost every time Klaus was arrested or overdosed, and his tendency to prowl the streets at night that meant they ran into each other more often than Diego might have actually wanted. Whatever it was, his brother didn’t seem willing to completely abandon him.

It was a particularly cold night when the car had pulled up beside him. Klaus had thought for a moment that he was about to get propositioned, and though he really wasn’t in the mood, he would have accepted if it meant he got out of the cold for a little while. His coat helped, but his shirt was awfully thin and his pants were too ripped to offer much protection from the icy wind and heavy rain. He almost envied Ben, not having any nerve endings to feel the cold with. Even the downers weren’t numbing him quite enough, physically or mentally. But it wasn’t a potential customer trying it on with him. It was his brother, looking out at him through the open window.

“Get in,” he said gruffly, and Klaus complied without question. He was shivering and dripping, and he was more than willing to listen to another lecture if it meant that he could catch a break.

“You got so lucky,” Ben said as he slid into the car with Klaus, unseen and ignored by Diego. Klaus decided to ignore him too, just for good measure. Plus it always helped if he tried not to seem too crazy around his brother, especially when he was doing him a favour. 

“I knew you loved me,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and joking. Diego was the only living person who might love him, or even tolerate him, but he didn’t want to think about that too much. 

Diego just grunted as he started to drive. “I’m gonna drop you at the shelter on Brook Street.”

“Can’t. ‘m banned,” Klaus mumbled, and he didn’t even need to look over at Ben to know that his ghost brother was about to start sulking about that all over again.

“Jesus- What did you  _ do _ ?” Diego asked, his jaw clenched in poorly disguised anger. Why he was surprised, Klaus didn’t know. Ben had been super pissed about that particular situation, but at least he hadn’t been surprised.

“Crack.”

“You-” Diego exhaled through his nose, a slow, deliberate attempt to maintain his composure. Klaus laughed sleepily. The back of Diego’s car was so comfortable, so warm and quiet. He wanted to take a nap right there, using his fluffy coat like a blanket. It was as if he was a teenager again, climbing into his bed after a day of training and a nice dose of painkillers to numb him enough for peaceful sleep. He closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards.

“Hated it there anyway.” That specific shelter had been especially humiliating, worse than sleeping rough. The staff had been convinced he was schizophrenic, as if he hadn’t been vaguely famous for his ability to see and speak to ghosts for most of his youth. Just because he wanted to talk to Ben sometimes, just because he needed to be high so he wouldn’t see dead people everywhere, that didn’t mean he was crazy. And just because he was an addict didn’t mean he was dangerous. At least if he was soliciting, there was a chance he’d get somewhere to stay for a night and a guarantee that no one cared if he was a crazy junkie. But he was tired, and he just wanted to rest. His head drooped, indistinct sounds tuned out into one nebulous background noise.

“Klaus! Are you even listening?” Ben snapped, clicking his fingers in front of Klaus's face. Which Klaus found entirely unnecessarily rude, but it wasn’t as if he could do much about that.

“Hmm?” Considering he’d started dozing off, he thought it was pretty clear that he hadn’t been. But he forced himself to open his eyes and lift his head again. “What did you say?” he asked in hope of placating his brothers. 

Diego exhaled slowly, as if he could expel the frustration. “You gotta stop doing this. I get it’s not easy, but you don’t even  _ try _ . Have you ever even had a job?” he asked, as if he was in any place to talk. Klaus knew full well that he’d been kicked out of the police academy, that he’d lost three jobs in the past year before he started working at the gym. And Diego must know how often their father had accused him of being lazy or otherwise incompetent. That wasn’t even taking into consideration the number of lectures from beyond the grave that Klaus had received from his ghost brother. He’d heard it all before. 

“I’m not exactly ‘job’ material,” he said with a half-hearted swish of his wrist. “‘m tired, Di… Pretty please can I sleep on your couch? Promise I won’t steal anything, for real this time. I’m only stealing from rich people now. I’m like Robin… What’s his name? Robin Williams?”

“Robin  _ Hood _ ,” Ben corrected, at the same time as Diego snorted a laugh.

“Sure, you’re Robin Williams,” he said, and Klaus could practically hear the eye roll in his voice.

“You know what I meant, asshole,” he said with a badly stifled yawn. He was practically passing out already, having to fight just to keep his head up. 

“You’re the asshole, man.”

“I’m the asshole… something,” he corrected, letting his eyes fall shut again.

“What?”

“I’m something… not a man. Maybe. Or kinda?” He sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, no doubt smearing his eyeliner. It was hard to make sense of it at the best of times, but especially when he had slowed his mind down and his body was protesting his continued consciousness.

“Asshole woman?” Diego said, his voice surprisingly soft. Klaus opened his eyes for a moment and met Diego’s in the reflection of the rearview mirror. His expression was almost indiscernible, but Klaus had known him long enough to recognise the microexpressions that made up uncertainty, concern, a sense of being entirely wrong-footed. But he didn’t seem upset by the idea that his brother could actually be his sister. If only it were that simple. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m not a woman either.”

“Just an asshole, then.”

Klaus smiled sleepily. “Knew you loved me,” he sang, and within moments, he was falling asleep on his own shoulder again. 


	9. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set in 2019, specifically during season one, episode two, right before the scene where Klaus acts as Five's father, making Klaus and most of his other siblings 30.
> 
> This chapter is also very short, but because it takes place during a short missing section of the actual show, I hope that's forgivable.

Just because the suit looked good on him didn’t mean he liked it. Klaus wondered idly if it would be too weird even for him to rip the thing up and turn it into something more his style once he was done masquerading as Five’s father for whatever bullshit the little asshole was up to now, given the fact it had belonged to their real father. Then again, what bigger fuck you to their dearly departed dad than to turn one of his suits into something fantastically queer? The waistcoat could become a decent top, and with a little sewing, he could slim the pants down so they clung to his legs properly, or else make a nice pair of short shorts out of them… 

“Booty shorts or super skinny pants?” he asked aloud.

“What are you talking about?” Five asked at the same time as Ben said “For what?”

“When we’re done with this outfit.”

Five just rolled his eyes while Ben looked him up and down. “The shorts,” he said eventually.

“Shorts? Do I even wear shorts?”

“Do you own shorts anymore?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know… Maybe that’s the problem. None of that Umbrella uniform knee length bullshit, though - no offence,” he added with a glance at Five’s outfit. It was strange, seeing him in person like that again. It made Klaus feel both entirely too old and entirely too young at the same time. “No, I need sexy shorts. The kind people want to put their hands down…”

“You really are disgusting,” Five said, wrinkling his nose. 

“Someone’s tetchy. Do I need to give you a time out? Put you over my knee and spank you?” He giggled at the mere thought of it. Was that how parents were supposed to be? It wasn’t exactly as if they’d had a prime role model in that, and the next closest thing Klaus had experience with was, bluntly put, more Daddy than Dad. 

“Shut it, or you’re not getting paid.” 

“That’s no way to talk to your father, young man.” The attempt at scolding might have worked better if he’d been able to keep himself from laughing, but he couldn’t help it. This was too ridiculous, and he was on just enough pot to make it funnier.

Five gave a slow, exasperated sigh. “You’re too high for this.”

“I’m  _ wounded _ , Five. How could you think so little of me?”

“Because I don’t think you’ve been sober for a second since I got back.”

“Okay, I’m high, yeah, but I’m not  _ too  _ high! I can totally pretend. I’m  _ so good _ at pretending. I mean, I pretended to be a straight man for  _ years _ !”

Ben snorted a laugh, but Five just rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re going back into the closet for a half hour. I need information and as long as these idiots think I’m some dumb kid, you’re an unfortunate necessity here.”

“Hey! I could totally have knocked up your mother when I was young and foolish. And I’m pan, so I could even have been out back then.”

“Pan?” Five repeated, an eyebrow raised.

“Pansexual. I can be attracted to anyone, gender doesn’t matter.”

“Huh. Good to know.”

“It means he’s a slut,” Ben deadpanned. Asshole. He wouldn’t be so brave if anyone else could hear him, Klaus was fairly sure of that.

“And it doesn’t mean I’m a slut. That’s unrelated.”

“Can you go more than ten minutes without saying something inappropriate?” Five asked. Ben just snorted, already all too aware of the answer. It wasn’t Klaus’s fault, though. Sometimes his mouth just worked a little faster than his brain. And other times, he just wanted to see what would happen or make himself laugh. Usually the latter, in all honesty.

He furrowed his brow in an exaggeration of deep thought. “Hmm… Probably not.”

Five sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. “You exhaust me.”

“Love you too, Fivey!” he beamed, earning himself another eye roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five is actually pretty challenging to write because he has such an interesting character voice. Hopefully this isn't too out of character!


	10. Allison (again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set during season 2 episode 4, and thanks to time travel being exceptionally confusing, I'm not even going to try and work out how old the siblings are here.

The floor wasn’t the most comfortable spot for drinking, but it felt right, like it was where they were meant to be. And besides, it wasn’t the first time Klaus had been in this kind of position. Admittedly it wasn’t usually with his sister, but he wouldn’t have wanted to be with anyone else. 

He’d missed her before, when they were apart, but he’d always been able to see her thriving by sneaking into the movies or flicking through a magazine. Arriving in Dallas had been different. He hadn’t even known if she was still alive, let alone where she was or what she was doing. And he’d managed, because he had to manage. But it had still hurt.

He almost couldn’t believe that she was really there, that he was really in Allison’s home. But she was and he was, and she’d given him the best tequila he’d had in a long time. 

“I gotta say, I’m loving the long hair,” Allison said with a grin. 

“Oh, why, thank you,” Klaus preened, twirling a strand around his finger. 

“You know I’m a hair stylist now?”

He gave her an exaggerated gasp that quickly turned into a grin. “What are you saying? You want to style me?”

“I usually do Black women’s hair, but I might have to make an exception for you,” she said, and he brought his hands to his heart. “It’ll be like when we were kids again. You remember how I used to paint your nails and put makeup on you?”

Klaus chuckled softly. Any time she got her hands on their mom’s products or later on when she had her own, she had always wanted to practise on her siblings as well as herself. Even Luther and Diego could sometimes be found with painted nails during their training sessions. They both complained endlessly, but it still happened every now and then when they decided they couldn’t say no to her any longer. Either that, or she had rumoured them. Klaus wasn’t entirely sure. All he knew was that he had never said no when she’d asked, and had always been privately thrilled by the chance to look pretty. “Yeah, I remember. None of the others would let you do it as often as I did.”

“You didn’t just let me do it, you basically  _ begged  _ me to,” she said with a grin. He’d seen that look on her face so many times when they were young, a mischievous, teasing, bright smile that showed she found some kind of joy in existence, despite everything. “You were basically more of a girl than Vanya.”

“I mean, I’m not a girl, but…” He waved his hands in an abstract gesture of ‘gender is confusing and at this point I’m not sure what is reactionary rebellion and a near-pathological desire for attention and what is my real self’. 

“But?” Allison prompted gently, a faint frown creasing between her eyebrows. 

“I’m not totally sure I’m like, a hundred percent a guy either?” He sighed and threw his drink back. “I mean, I’ve done the whole ‘she’ thing-”

“You have?” 

“Yeah. But it didn’t feel right, and sure, ‘they’ is fine but so is ‘he’ and it’s not like either is, like, an absolute ‘yes, I fit here completely’, you know?” He took another long drink and let his head fall onto his sister’s shoulder.

She reached over and pet his hair gently, and he turned to hug her from the side, cuddling up to her. True, Destiny’s Children had been clingy, but that was different. They didn’t cuddle him so much as grope him, pull him, try to touch him no matter what he wanted. He had to be the leader. But with Allison, she was Number Three and he was Number Four. She was put-together and he was a disaster. Even despite her problems, she was still in control and able to let him be small and useless and messy. 

“Whatever you do, whether you’re my brother, sister, sibling, whatever you want to be, and no matter how much you drive me insane - which is a whole lot, by the way - I will always be your sister.”

The Hargreeves family had never been too skilled at heart to heart conversations. It wasn’t something they were supposed to do, wasn’t something they had ever really done much of, and Klaus didn’t know how to react. He did know that he felt like he was about to cry, but that might just have been the alcohol. 

“Aww, Alli, between you and this tequila, something here’s gonna make me puke,” Klaus said fondly, tucking his head down so she couldn’t see his face. 


End file.
